Gentle Storm
by sadistw
Summary: Rain, rain, go away, but leave the Englishman for me. Roses are red, violets are blue, I may have amnesia, but I know i love you.
1. Chapter 1

Rain, rain, go away, but leave the Englishman for me.

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Alfred sighed as he walked along the rows of dirt he had been tending to for the past month. This land was dead, the only reason he lived on the farm was because it was cheaper than living in the city. He leaned down to look at a spot of green that turned out to be a frog. When Arthur proposed planting a garden Alfred told him that nothing would grow; the crushing disappointment in the British man's emerald eyes convinced him to try anyway. Alfred paused and blinked at a tiny spot of green and when it didn't hop away he looked closer. A tiny plant was struggling to grow in the un-fertile dirt. Alfred smiled, he would have never done this before, yet he knew that, like the unsteady land beneath him, he was changing for the better. The Briton had come in with the summer storms and changed his isolated way of life; Alfred now had someone to worry about other than himself, someone who needed saving, and what kind of hero would he be if he didn't help? Done with caring for the plant, Alfred ran back to the house, he couldn't wait to see the smile on Arthur's face when he told him.

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'Kay dudes, so I admit don't own Hetalia, but you know this already.  
This is short but the second chapter is twice as long, so altogether this may be the longest thing I've posted so far. 


	2. Chapter 2

Roses are red, Violets are blue, I may have amnesia but I know I love you.

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The soft rain beating down on the glass told Arthur there was no need to water the flowers today. He was secretly glad as the field was now quite large and a proper tending could take near half the day. Though he did not completely mind, it was all time spent with Alfred, after all. His eyes drifted from the window to the snoring man on the floor, he had fallen asleep watching some action thriller that Arthur had promptly turned off in favor of the news once the moment arose.

Setting his gaze back to the window, television now off, Arthur was reminded off the first time he had come to the little house. It had been raining terribly hard and the Briton struggled against the strong winds as he tried to figure out where he was. In the distance he saw the lights of the house and ran towards it as much as he was pushed by the wind. It was lit up brilliantly, he would later learn that Alfred was quite terrified of storms, and he knocked heavily on the door. You wouldn't be able to tell that the angry, hostile man who opened the door with an irritated 'what' was the same man who now slept with a serene smile at Arthur's feet.

He had certainly changed in the month's they spent together. In the beginning Alfred had been rude and unwelcoming, showing no sympathy whatsoever for the Briton and becoming absolutely furious when he was found to have amnesia. At some point during there time together Alfred became kinder, Arthur feigned ignorance since Alfred himself hadn't know the reason for his change in behavior, though he saw the way the American's eyes would follow him, noticed the way he would fluster when they made contact. He knew the man had was smitten, even if the blue eyed blond didn't know it himself. Arthur was ashamed to admit he used that affection to his advantage at first, Alfred had threatened to throw him out many times, he was in an unfamiliar place and the thought of venturing on his own was terrifying.

He encouraged Alfred's affections and of course they grew, Arthur he hadn't accounted for were changes in his own feelings. He noticed little things like how Alfred would set his tea out for him in the morning ( The American had assumed that since Arthur had an English accent he liked tea), and the way Alfred would scarf down his cooking, complimenting it all the while, though Arthur knew he had more than a bit of room for improvement. The thing that completely won him over was the day Alfred ran in covered with dirt and grinning like he'd won the lotto. Arthur closed his eyes and leaned back in his chair, allowing the cherished memory to wash over him. That day Alfred had dragged him down to the field and showed him a little green bud. As far as Arthur could remember no one had gone through such lengths to make him happy, admittedly, Alfred was as far back as he could remember, but he felt that such a loving act was not common for him to receive.

The two of them took care of that field every afternoon, the more time they spent together the more Arthur realized that he was in love.

That left them where they were now, in a foggy realm of not yet lovers but oh so much more than friends. Arthur stood and gently removed the glasses from Alfred's face, placing them on the table near his sewing. His beloved Alfred. Arthur caressed the sleeping man's face, he didn't give a damn how creepy it looked either; who he was didn't matter, so long as he could stay with Alfred. His brilliant smile was all Arthur needed to remember.

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Spelling mistakes? Nauseating amount of commas? Let me know dudes! I'll fix it lickety split! Don't be scared to tell me what you thought. Thank you for reading~


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